


In the Still of the Night

by zombiegardener



Series: In the Still of the NIght [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Implied Sexual Content, Insomnia, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Panic Attacks, Pining Lance (Voltron), Pining Shiro (Voltron), Post-Season 2, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Shiro (Voltron) is a Mess, Slow Burn, and then apparently couldn't stop, everyone is a mess, lots of introspection, shance, shiro's pov, though again not graphically described, though its barely mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-10-31 00:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 19,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombiegardener/pseuds/zombiegardener
Summary: Sleepless nights can wear you down. But sometimes they can also be the start of something beautiful.Or how to build a relationship you didn't even know you wanted in sleepless nights and stolen moments.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So one day last week I was exhausted and couldn't focus on the work I was being paid to do at all and thought I'd finish up the next parts of fics in progress instead. I had part of this in my head and thought I'd get it down as a head canon or something and then go back to the story I was working on. 17,000-plus words and a week later, I have this. 
> 
> This is a bit choppy, maybe, because I only left in the bits that went with the overall theme. It also takes place over a reaaalllly long time- chapter 1 alone probably stretches over months. I considered posting the chapters separately, but if I do that I may never get anything else done, so I give up. Also note that some of the bits (chapters, whatever) are really introspective and some not so much, mostly depending on Shiro's mood at the time.

***1***

It started slowly.

It started on sleepless nights, when Shiro would find himself wandering the halls of the castleship, too restless to try to turn his mind to productive work and too much in need of something that remained too frustratingly undefinable to head to the training deck. Sometimes he'd walk until an acceptable variation of "morning" before heading to the showers and presenting himself for breakfast with a flimsy pretense that today was new and not just a continuation of yesterday or last week. Sometimes his team would filter in obviously fresh from a full night of sleep, but just as often there were signs that at least some of the others were having their own sleepless nights. The shadowed eyes and barely concealed yawns reminded him that all of them had seen and experienced too much to find peace on a regular basis. He knew that he needed to reach out and do something, to be the leader he was in most things, but in this he couldn't quite find a way to bridge the gulf between them. How could he council anyone on how to let the past go and deal with issues in a way that was even marginally approaching healthy without strangling himself on the hypocrisy? Still, he tried to push everyone toward their beds at night, even if he was well aware that most of the time they didn't stay there.

Thankfully, he didn't have to solve this problem entirely on his own. It was the night after a particularly nasty battle when Lance found him wandering the halls. The younger man didn't push him to talk, didn't really do anything other than walk with him. Only the tell-tale fidgeting with the sleeves of his jacket with his fingers reassured Shiro that he really hadn't been replaced by a pod person. He caught the sideways glances Lance kept sending him as if he expected a lecture or to be sent away at any moment, and Shiro wasn't entirely sure why he didn't do just that. The only answer he could conceive when he examined the question the next time he walked the halls alone was that it had been nice to have company, even if Lance had been unnaturally quiet and almost wary. He'd felt less like a lonely ghost and more like a human who was lost but maybe not quite alone in the darkness of space. So he didn't send Lance away the next time he found him, or the time after that, because the feeling of companionship helped calm him in some way he couldn't define.

They might have continued like that forever if Lance hadn't asked him one night if the walking helped him. He was finally reaching a place of calm, the almost unnaturally quiet presence of the normally hyperactive paladin beside him acting like a soothing balm to the restless energy that drove him. Otherwise he might not have answered, or at least not answered honestly. But he did, and when he told Lance in a quiet voice that the company helped more than the walking, Lance had just nodded like he'd expected that answer and again didn't push. Instead he said "good" and they continued to walk, although Lance's restless fidgeting increased and he seemed more distracted that usual.

Maybe that distraction should have been a sign, because things changed after that night. Sometimes he still walked alone. Sometimes he even changed his routes to make it harder for Lance to find him. Sometimes he and Lance just walked, either quietly or on "exploratory missions"- Lance's term- of the unexplored recesses of the castle they called home, especially on nights when they jerkiness of Lance's motions suggested that the younger man desperately needed an escape from the silence. They found interesting things on those "missions", including an observatory with windows opening onto a balcony that they spent more than one night in after that and a music room that made Lance's eyes go wide and tear up. Shiro left him alone that night and made sure he mostly avoided that hallway thereafter, because the expression on Lance's face had almost broken his heart and some things were too personal for intrusion.

Then there were the nights that Lance led them to their teammates. He never quite figured out how Lance knew where to find everyone in the middle of the night and on which nights they needed to be found. He should have questioned it, he thought later, but after the first night he just went with it. Regardless, a couple of nights after Lance first asked him whether he wanted to just walk, the Blue Paladin found him out on "patrol"- again, Lance's term- and dragged him toward Pidge's workspace instead of simply falling in beside him. They found Pidge hunched over their computer, eyes squinted behind their glasses and skin pallid under the unforgiving light of the multiple monitors. The cautious glance they turned on the two of them made him wonder how often Lance appeared down here in the middle of the night to try and bully them into sleeping. Lance suddenly adopted his normal bright smile despite the slightly pinched look of exhaustion around his own eyes and completely ignored Pidge's muttered remarks about bringing reinforcements in favor of giving a master class on how to irritate the Green Paladin just enough to disrupt their train of thought and admit that maybe they needed _some_ sleep but not enough to invite full-blown retribution. He didn't do anything overt. Nothing that they could actually call him on. He just asked questions and pulled Shiro over to look at things and pretended like he was going to touch things that he knew would make Pidge react.

A couple of nights later he dragged him to see Hunk in the hangers where the Yellow Paladin was working on the lions late into the night. Nights like these became fairly common, and it took Shiro several visits to realize that Hunk lost sleep on the nights he most needed to be reminded that he wasn't alone. After that realization he never protested him when Lance led him toward the hangers or the kitchen. Sometimes they'd help him and listen to him talk about the repairs and other things, and other times Lance would try to blackmail him into going to bed. One night in particular Shiro was convinced Lance somehow persuaded all 5 lions to take his side because they suddenly became very difficult for no discernable reason, but that may have been the sleep deprivation talking. Other nights they'd find Hunk in the kitchen. Lance would sit on the counter despite Hunk's protests and get him to tell stories while he baked. Sometimes Shiro would start to feel like an intruder and try to slip away, but then Lance or Hunk would launch into a story so ridiculous it was impossible to leave without hearing the outcome or ask him a question that would seem earnest and serious enough to grab his attention or give him a cookie. The cookie thing always worked. On one particularly memorable night they took freshly baked almost-peanut-butter-if-you-ignored-the-glowing-green-tint cookies to Pidge in their lab and then proceeded to sing them the most ridiculous songs they could think of until Pidge was finally laughing too hard to pretend to work.

He realized two things that night. One, he hadn't sang anything since before Kerberos, not even to himself. It was like he'd shut a part of himself away so tightly that he hadn't even felt it missing. Two, he really had been holding himself apart from his team. Sure, he spend time with Keith and sometimes with Pidge, and they were all connected in a way he wouldn't have thought possible a year ago, but he spent much less with Lance and almost none with Hunk, and that was a mistake. Not just because they were amazing people worth knowing, because they were, but also because it was hurting them as a team.

Sometimes they'd find Allura in the control room or in one of the mostly empty rooms on their walks. When they found her they'd keep her company for a while, talking about missions and plans and memories from her childhood. Shiro noticed that Lance avoided the flirting he irritated her with during the day on those nights, but he never called him on it. He thought he understood; things seemed more real and at the same time more ephemeral during those late-night hours, like words seemed to carry more weight. Sometimes Lance would shoot them covert glances and try to leave them alone, but Shiro usually managed to exclude himself out of both respect for the princess's privacy and the realization that he enjoyed these nighttime excursions with Lance.

There were also nights he was able to return the favor. Most of those nights involved Keith. Sometimes they'd find him in the training room and Lance would almost ignore Shiro in favor of nagging Keith into giving in and going to bed. Sometimes the arguments would escalate until Shiro had no choice but to give in and send them both to bed like 5-year-olds. Lance always looked secretly smug about that, which made Shiro think that the outcome was his goal all along. Some nights they'd train with him, or Lance would leave him there to pester Pidge or Hunk. Other nights they'd just talk, sometimes even like actual functioning adults. Lance would also leave them alone on some of those nights, when it was obvious that Keith needed to talk but was holding back with him there. But more frequently Shiro started to use the tricks he'd learned on their nights with Hunk to pull Lance back into the conversation for many of the same reasons. Keith and Lance still argued, but most of the arguments were muted now and they sounded more like brothers being purposefully antagonistic than the almost-rivals they'd been before. 

On one amazing night, when the castleship was stationary on a planet overnight for repairs, Lance somehow managed to corral all five of them out on the balcony of the observatory they'd found on their walks. They ate cookies and named constellations and made wishes on shooting stars for hours until Coran finally found them and chased them all back inside before actual acid rain began to fall from the sky. It was purple. Shiro was pretty sure that Lance and Pidge were never going to let that go.

They all still had nights when sleep wouldn't come, but they were starting to feel more like a part of life than something to be dreaded, because there was always company to be found in those dark hours if someone needed it. And for a while that was enough. They started to function better as a team as they became closer, bonding over sleepless nights in a manner that was entirely different and somehow more personal than the bonds they'd formed during battles and training and meals and all of the endless minutiae that filled their days.

***2***

Shiro didn't fully realize how much he'd settled into thinking of the castle as home and his teammates as some weird hybrid of friends and family instead of just a responsibility until he found himself actively searching for Lance on a sleepless night. He'd managed to grab an almost healthy amount of sleep on the couple of nights previously, worn out from endless rounds of training and battles and the relentless requirements for diplomacy in their never-ending search for allies, and he realized with a start that he missed the younger man's company. Lance had grown up a lot since they'd arrived- they all had, much too fast- but somehow he'd managed to mostly retain the aura of cheerful sunshine that drew people to him. Including Shiro, apparently, because he stopped and stared sightlessly out at the endless stars from the observatory window as the thought struck him that he didn't have to wait for Lance to find him.

It took some searching, but he finally found the Blue Paladin in one of the common rooms. He was sprawled on the floor, expression distant as he tinkered with a panel extending from the otherwise smooth metal wall. Shiro just watched him for a moment, leaning against the door and trying not to smile at Lance's half-hearted attempt to do whatever it was that he was doing despite knowing that he was probably going to get yelled at for touching something that looked electronic by someone. Probably Hunk. Giving in to the smile when Lance finally slouched in defeat and shoved the panel closed, he walked in and dropped down on the couch.

"Should I even ask?"

Lance sighed, turning tired blue eyes on him as he leaned back on his hands. "It's supposed to be some sort of entertainment...thingy. I don't know. Why can't Alteans just include some sort of universal play button like normal sane people?"

"No idea." He leaned back more comfortably against the too stiff cushions and allowed himself a moment to long for a nice soft comfy Earth couch with overstuffed cushions before shaking himself back to the present. "So why are you risking Hunk and Coran's wrath instead of using the player in the common room that we know how to use?"

"Because..." Lance's voice trailed off and he turned his gaze toward the wall. His expression was growing distant again, and he'd sucked his bottom lip in between his teeth, which he only did when he was a million miles away.

Shiro let the silence drag on for a moment before it started to feel too weighted. "Because?" he prompted, tilting his head against the cushion and regarding Lance with watchful eyes.

"What?" Lance turned back to him, blinking like he hadn't realized his thoughts had wandered. "Oh, sorry. It's supposed to be different. Not movies or video, but something Coran called "an authentic immersion into Altean life"." He used the air quotes absently, which was a habit he'd picked up when directly quoting Coran somewhere along the way.

Shiro thought about that for a moment, but it didn't help. "Okay. Meaning what, exactly?"

That got him a rueful smile. "No idea, man. Honestly, I was just kind of hoping for people and noise. It's just so _quiet_ here sometimes, you know?" He gestured around them, as if he could point at the silence that seemed to seep in from whatever noise-deadening technology the Alteans had added to many of the rooms. "Hunk went to bed, and Pidge was doing something and threatened me with impending death if I didn't go away. They even used that look that makes their threats seem serious." He paused and narrowed his eyes and leaned forward at Shiro, trying to nail the approaching menace that could be the Green Paladin, startling a laugh out of Shiro that got him a smile in return. "That look. I even looked for Keith. And you've been sleeping, and I didn't want to bother you, but it was just so quiet."

He reached out a foot to nudge Lance's hip gently. "Well, here I am."

Lance looked back up at him with another smile, one that made his heart do things that he chose to ignore. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He nudged Lance again, because he was still smiling that little smile and there was a decent chance Shiro was going to do something he'd regret later- probably, anyway- so it was time to come up with a distraction. He was the leader of the Defenders of the Universe and the goddamned Black Paladin. Surely he could think of something. There was a moment of silence before inspiration struck. "Tell me about when you first met Hunk."

Lance eyed him suspiciously. "You've heard that story."

"In pieces. So tell me the whole thing."

Shiro stayed in his spot on the couch, watching fondly as the younger man became more animated as the story progressed until he was finally sitting up and using arm motions to act things out. Story telling was something Lance was good at, and he let himself get caught up as words and laughter chased away the quiet of the night.

***3***

After that night, they spent a lot more time like that on sleepless nights, sprawled on couches in random rooms and just talking. The topics ranged from personal and important (why they'd joined the Garrison, how they thought the Garrison was handling their disappearances, what food they missed most, favorite childhood stories) to the ridiculous (who was the best Muppet- Shiro would have been hard-pressed to realize he had a favorite Muppet until he was arguing for Floyd while Lance tried to pin him with Sam and Lance was arguing for Gonzo while Shiro tried to pin him with Animal, whether the Arusians had started an actual Allura-worshipping cult to go with the castle-worshipping cult, and one night in a heated discussion that also involved Pidge whether the Infinity Stones might actually be a thing and whether they should look into it since they were in a unique position- as humans, anyway- to find out). They didn't talk often of the fears and worries and anxieties that were robbing them of sleep, since that would defeat the purpose of trying to obtain a sense of normalcy that was conducive to sleep, but sometimes they did. Sometimes they were alone and sometimes others joined them. Coran in particular would often wander in and tell them stories on nights he was awake, and he loved to listen to their stories of Earth in return. Sometimes they talked all night, and sometimes only for long enough to take the edge off before heading their separate ways.

Something shifted again the first night he woke up on the couch with Lance asleep beside him. He thought that night would be an isolated incident, because he was always aware of the risk of his dreams descending into flashbacks, and he'd been so careful to always fall asleep alone in his room. Over time, the incidents became more common, until he began to wonder if his subconscious mind was trying to sabotage his intentions. Or possibly to tell him something else, because when he woke up next to Lance on those nights he always intended to wake the younger man and shoo him back to his room, but somehow that never happened. Instead he'd watch him sleep until either sleep overtook him again or it was time to get up and he could pretend that he'd just been woken by the noise. He always felt vaguely guilty on those mornings, as if the act of knowingly keeping Lance close to him while he slept was selfish in some way. 

He finally put a finger on the feeling when he woke one morning feeling the best he'd felt in months and realized that at some time during the night Lance had curled up and was sleeping with his head pillowed on Shiro's lap. The fingers of one hand were threaded through Shiro's human hand, while the other arm had fallen off the couch and was trailing down to the floor. He blinked his eyes for a moment in drowsy contentment and ran the fingers of his prosthetic hand through the fine strands of Lance's dark hair before the panic attack set in and fully woke him. His eyes went wide as he tried to remember the last time he'd woken up with anyone touching him and couldn't. The realization that he'd missed this- the warmth and contentment of sleepy cuddling, if nothing else- flared through him and choked the air from his lungs, because this wasn't right. He couldn't use Lance this way, he couldn't do this, he couldn't... His muscles stiffened as his mind started to frantically spiral, startling Lance into something approaching wakefulness. Which also wasn't fair, because he needed sleep and most definitely did not need to deal with Shiro freaking out for something that was in no way his fault because apparently he was craving human contact enough to cross lines that probably shouldn't be crossed. So he forced himself to breath, his free hand dropping unconsciously to Lance's back in an attempt to slow his breaths, and tried to focus on relaxing his muscles as Lance made a sleepy sound of confusion. He loosened his death grip on Lance's hand enough to free his fingers. Lance responded by turning his face into Shiro's thigh and covering his eyes with his forearm as if he was trying to ward away morning. Still taking deep, slow breaths, he closed his eyes and let his human hand drift into Lance's hair, taking comfort himself in the silky feel of the strands sliding through his fingers and the feeling of Lance's breathing evening out again. Finally regaining at least a semblance of calm, he opened his eyes and watched the slow rise and fall of Lance's chest and the shadows his dark eyelashes made on the sharp lines of his cheekbones, which were visible even in the dim lighting of the sleep cycle. He felt his chest swell with affection and something deeper, something he was terrified to try to put a name to, which reinvigorated the panic attack with the knowledge that _no_ , he wasn't _using_ Lance, he _wanted_ Lance. It was that realization that had him stumbling over apologies that probably made no sense as he knocked Lance off of his lap- and the couch- and bolted for the door.

After that he told himself that he needed space and maybe a little time, because none of this was fair to Lance. So he'd stay away. He'd just give himself time to get over this infatuation, and no one would ever be the wiser.

That was when he was forced to concede that he was obviously terrible at lying to himself, because he couldn't even begin to make himself believe that any of that would work. It only took a day- one single day- of bewildered and almost hurt glances from Lance before he caved. It was like the younger man was a magnet, with his gorgeous eyes and sunny smiles and willingness to give everything he was to hold everyone else together and general dorkiness and insane opinions on the great Star Wars vs. Star Trek debate- which Keith had finally declared an off-limits topic as the rare voice of reason when things started to get out of hand- and Shiro could no more stay away than he could stop breathing.

He thought that at least he could keep his feelings to himself and suffer alone, but based on the resigned looks Keith kept shooting him and the way Lance seemed to draw his attention whenever he was near, even his poker face was failing. He finally gave up on the idea altogether the next morning he woke up in that warm contented haze again, surrounded by the intoxicating warmth of another body pressed against his. He gave himself a minute to just savor the feeling before blinking open his eyes and risking an assessing glance down at Lance. Sometime during the night Shiro had wedged himself into the corner of the couch, and Lance had curled up against his chest in the circle of Shiro's arms with his face tucked into Shiro's throat. Shiro's cheek was resting on his hair, and he could feel one of Lance's arms wrapped around his waist, but he couldn't tell for certain because someone had covered them with a blanket. That fact alone should have been setting off warning bells and possibly another panic attack, but Shiro was honestly tired of pretending and just wanted to drop back down into the warm haze of sleep. He might have even managed to do that if a slight shift hadn't set off the twinging in his back brought on by a couple of hours of sleep pressed into the unyielding arm of the couch. Sighing in defeat, he buried his face in Lance's tousled hair and promised himself that when he got back to Earth he was going to buy (or steal, if necessary, because why pretend he had any pride left?) the most ridiculous couch he could find. The kind that could swallow a whole family. And he was never going to take it for granted again.

Which was his frame of mind when Lance shifted and woke up against him. To avoid any awkwardness and possibly because Lance was doing weird things to his self-control, he informed him of his couch-buying intentions when Lance sat up with a wince and was rewarded with the sleepy version of that sunny smile, which he immediately decided was his new favorite smile. And if his heart skipped a beat, Lance was already sitting up and stretching so probably he had no idea.

The answer to the lingering (in Shiro's mind, anyway) blanket question was answered at breakfast when Hunk gave him a knowing smile and asked how his back was feeling. His expression must have descended into panic, because Hunk took pity on him and pointed out that Lance had fallen asleep with most of them in some variation because he hated sleeping alone. With a suddenly gleeful smile, Hunk told him that he'd even found Lance asleep on the floor of the common room with Keith once with a movie playing in the background, which both of them immediately declared was a lie while refusing to look at each other.

They were saved from any further embarrassment by the ringing of the castle alarms and the scramble to the control room.

***4***

Those words stuck with him, though, and came back to him two days later, when they finally returned to the castle after strategy and battle and the rounds of diplomacy that always inevitably followed. He emerged from the shower to find the room empty except for Lance, who was leaning with his forehead pressed against a locker. He'd at least managed to change back into jeans and a t-shirt, although Shiro was pretty sure he was actually asleep on his feet. Shaking his head, he pulled own his own clothes and reached out to shake Lance's shoulder. The Blue Paladin jerked with a start- so yep, asleep- and turned wide unfocused eyes on Shiro.

"Shiro? What? Where?"

Shiro didn't even fight the fond smile on his face. Instead he pushed on Lance's shoulder to turn him toward the door. "You. Bed. Now." He gave Lance's shoulder another push to get him moving, but the younger man just swayed on his feet and leaned back against him. Shiro was willing to bet that his eyes were already closed again.

"Mmm. You could at least buy me dinner first."

He rolled his eyes and pushed Lance upright again. "You can barely stand up. I'm pretty sure you wouldn't be worth dinner right now."

"Hey!"

He waited a second, but no further outburst seemed to be coming, which kind of proved his point. He gave his shoulder another nudge when Lance continued to stand there swaying slightly on his feet. "Bed, Lance. You need to sleep."

"Mmm, probably." One hand came up to rub his eyes, but he at least took a step toward the door. "But I should probably check on Pidge. They get kind of obsessed with new tech."

"Pidge went to bed half an hour ago." He held up his hands as Lance shot him a suspicious look over his shoulder and turned Hunk's words over in his mind again.

"Blue-"

"No." Making his decision, Shiro cut off whatever Lance's next excuse was going to be by taking his hand and pulling him out into the hallway. He half expected Lance to pull his hand back as he started to tug him toward their quarters, but Lance just threaded their fingers together and leaned slightly against his shoulder as they walked, head drooping in defeat.

They slowed as they neared Lance's room, and Shiro dropped his head to try to catch his eyes. "Hey, seriously. Are you going to sleep if I shove you in there and lock the door?"

Lance glanced up at him and then dropped his eyes again, although not quickly enough for Shiro to miss the exhaustion in his gaze. "I don't know? I'm tired enough, but Pidge stole their headphones back last week, and I just don't know."

"Fair enough." He started walking again, pulling them past Lance's room toward his room. He hit the panel outside his door with his free hand and pulled Lance inside, fighting a frisson of nerves at his look of surprised confusion.

"Shiro?"

"You," Shiro told him, taking a step closer than was probably strictly necessary and poking him gently in the chest, "need to sleep. And I need to sleep without worrying about whether you're actually sleeping. And since there's a 50/50 chance we'll both end up on the couch anyway and then I won't be able to move tomorrow because the couch sucks as a sleeping surface, I figured that I'd just cut out the middle steps and get to the sleeping part."

"Right. Okay. Sure." Lance blinked up at him but didn't back away. "But are you sure about this?"

The flutter of nerves was back, and they'd brought their friends the butterflies and possibly the rest of the animal kingdom. Shiro took a step back again and forced himself to look away, hoping that he hadn't pushed too far. "Yeah, well, I mean, I know you hate to sleep alone, and I just thought..." His voice trailed off and he turned back to Lance, who was looking at him with a mix of emotions playing across his face too fast to follow. He cleared his throat and took another step away, one hand coming up to idly rub at his neck. "I mean, if you want to. You don't have to."

"No. No take backs." He risked a glance at Lance and found him kicking off his boots as he tried to scramble toward the bed. He reached out and caught his arm as he tripped over his feet and almost fell, cursing and trying to hide the blush rising up to his ears. 

He slid his hand from Lance's elbow up to his chin and tilted his face up so could search his eyes, suddenly aware of how close they were again. "Are you sure?" His voice was slightly hoarse and he could feel his own cheeks heating up, but Lance never looked away. 

"Yeah, I'm sure."

He wasn't sure what question he'd actually been asking, but he supposed that was fair because he also had no idea what question Lance was answering. There was too much subtext and it was going to have to wait for another day when his eyes didn't feel like they'd been etched with acid from exhaustion. Instead he nodded and stepped away to kick off his own shoes.

Lance watched him for a moment, standing next to his bed in his bare feet, which had its own surprising vulnerability, before his mouth suddenly curled up in a smile. "I'm not sleeping in my jeans, though."

Shiro fought down a smile of his own as he started to pull off his own pants, because god no. "I wasn't expecting you to."

"Good," Lance answered on a sigh before he moved to pull off his jeans and crawl under the covers against the wall.

Shiro dimmed the lights and crawled in after him. He had a brief thought about trying to maintain distance between them, but it was a small bed and neither of them were small men. Besides, he wasn't sure who he was trying to fool anymore. Lance must have reached a similar conclusion, because he shifted back at almost the same moment Shiro shifted forward. They moved until they found a comfortable position, with Lance's back to Shiro's chest, his human arm thrown over Lance's waist and his prosthetic arm curled up against his stomach between them. He felt more than heard Lance sigh in something that might have been contentment as they both relaxed. The last thing he heard before sleep overtook him was Lance's way too self-satisfied voice.

"You totally owe me dinner."

***5***

The weeks that followed were a blur of activity spurred by the work of the last few days. Their newly freed and brand new allies had brought them into contact with different branches of the resistance, including one that Pidge thought might be hiding Matt. There were new insights and new tech, new opportunities to use the Blade to dig for more information that could be used to disrupt the Galra's still continuing expansion, and all of the resulting complications that went with a small group of people trying to organize a rapidly expanding alliance that was still standing on shaky ground. Under the circumstances, everything else got pushed to the side to make room for more immediate concerns.

It wasn't until late one night when he collapsed into bed after a round of meetings that he never wanted to live through again that he realized that he hadn't been alone in the same room with Lance for at least a week. Groaning, he buried his face in his hands and tried to remember if the Blue Paladin was even back on the ship. He'd sent him with Keith to check on rumors coming from a nearby planet they'd freed months ago, but he was pretty sure that had been yesterday. He knew he'd spoken with them both, to gather information and make sure they hadn't killed each other, because old habits die hard, but everything had been fine. And he was positive that he hadn't sent them anywhere else, although there was always the possibility that something had come up and gotten lost in the chaos, which was a measure of how desperately he needed to sleep. But no, he'd remember if any of them weren't in the castle. He was sure he would remember. That meant Lance was here. That meant he could get up and go find him if he could convince himself to move. Which he totally would, in just another minute. 

He was saved from the effort by his door opening and the object of his current dilemma striding into the room. Well, more like slinking, but Shiro was willing to give him credit for the effort because at least he was upright and actually moving. Lance hit the lock button as the door slid shut and slumped against the wall before turning a tired smile on Shiro. "Hey."

"Hey yourself. I was just thinking about you."

"Good." Lance pushed away from the wall and moved toward the bed. "I asked Allura if she knew where you were and she said you'd gone to bed. So I thought, that's a fantastic idea. I should go to bed."

"It is." Shiro managed to move enough to hold out one hand, because Lance was kind of looking like he needed some sort of validation. "So come here."

Lance visibly relaxed, kicked off his shoes and jeans, and practically collapsed on top of Shiro. Shiro huffed out a laugh and tipped them over to the side so that they ended with Lance's head on Shiro's shoulder and their legs tangled together. Lance made a small sound of encouragement and ran his fingers lightly up Shiro's ribs, because even exhausted and nearly asleep he was incapable of ever holding completely still. "I missed you." 

The words sparked through him, releasing tension he hadn't realized he'd still been holding. He raised his free hand to brush through Lance's hair. "I missed you too."

Lance hummed in response, his muscles loosening as he more passed out then actually fell asleep. Shiro smiled and leaned up enough to place a soft kiss on Lance's forehead before he followed his example.

***6***

In theory he knew that building a relationship in the middle of a war was difficult. The problem was that he'd always imagined it was difficult for entirely different reasons. He'd imagined fights and torn loyalties and a ton of other quasi-romantic things that would be terribly dramatic and probably totally suck in real life. He'd never really imagined that there just wouldn't be any _time_. It was damned hard to build a foundation for anything when the only moments you had were either literally stolen between meetings or battles or whatever the responsibility of the day was or were spent asleep, because exhaustion overrode everything.

The other issue was that he wasn't even entirely sure what this thing between them _was_. He'd had relationships before. He'd dated an interesting array of people before Kerberos, so he had a pretty good idea of how relationships were supposed to go, or at least he thought he did, because he'd never taken dating seriously back then. He'd been dedicated to flying and to his upcoming mission, so he hadn't been searching or even interested in anything approaching a serious relationship, which had colored every choice he'd made. That past history was making him second-guess his every thought now, because he was pretty certain that he was serious about Lance, or at least that he would be if they could ever decide what the hell they were actually doing. Because they were doing things backwards, or maybe sideways. For example, they'd slept together- literally, "slept" being the operative word- but they'd never kissed. He wasn't even sure if Lance wanted to kiss him, which was currently driving him crazy, because he wasn't sure he could think of anything he wanted more and Lance had never been actually shy.

The uncertainty combined with the tension and the ever-present stress were slowly building to a crescendo, and Shiro was pretty sure it was only a matter of time before things exploded. 

And of course it happened at the worst time possible. 

He was in the locker room, dragging on his armor as he got ready to follow the Blade with Keith to check on a potential communications leak, when Lance all but exploded into the room. His heart sank as he recognized the stubborn set of the Blue Paladin's jaw and his narrowed eyes. It was a look he'd seen before, although not often directed at him. He took a step back before he stopped himself, which only succeeded in pissing him off. In response he straightened up, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you in the hanger, Shiro." He was distantly aware of Keith grabbing the rest of his armor and backing out the door, the coward. He also caught the muttered "have fun with that" before the door shut. Apparently so did Lance, judging by the way his blue eyes narrowed into slits, so he'd have to thank Keith for that later. 

They stood there for a moment just glaring at each other in silence. He could feel the frustration that had been building coursing through him like fire, and his already frayed temper was way too close to the surface. Topping off the fun-filled maelstrom that was his emotions was the coating of guilt and anger at himself for not actively standing his ground concerning his misgivings about this damn mission, because he still couldn't seem to separate the gratitude to the Blade for saving him from the suspicion that there was something else he must be missing, because so far he hadn't seen them do anything that could be considered altruistic. The mix was making him feel sick, and the last thing he needed was whatever this was with Lance coming to a head on top of it. Scowling, he forced himself to turn away and finished fastening on his arm guards with quick, jerky motions.

"Shiro."

To his credit, Lance didn't raise his voice, although the tone was so tight it was almost flat.

"What?"

His own voice was almost a growl, but he couldn't help that. He was having enough trouble keeping a rein on his temper as it was, and he was just barely aware of the inner voice telling him to not take it out on Lance.

"This is a bad idea." He glanced back up to find that Lance had crossed his arms and was staring at him with his eyes snapping with anger and his cheeks flushed with color. "You and Keith-"

"Really?" Shiro straightened back up and snatched his helmet off the bench. "Are we back to this again? I'm not choosing Keith over you, and I'm not being fucking biased. Keith is going because Red is the best lion for this mission and because he's used to working with the blade. We are _not_ having this discussion right now!"

Lance actually stopped and almost gaped at him for a moment before taking a step closer. "What are you even...? Will you just listen for a minute or is that too much to ask?"

"There's no time. We'll talk later."

He started to turn away but froze when Lance grabbed his arm to halt the movement. He turned back to find Lance glaring at him again, expression dangerous. "Then make time." He spat the words out, fingers tightening around Shiro's bicep until the edges of the armor started to dig in to his skin. The air felt thick with the tension between them, making it hard to breathe.

He yanked his arm away and turned toward the door again. His stomach was starting to boil with acid, and frustration and unhappiness felt like they were about to burn a hole in his chest, because he _did not need this right now_. He knew something was off, and he desperately needed the time to focus. _"Lance."_ He tried to put all the warning he could muster into his tone, but apparently it had as much effect as a match on a raging fire because Lance didn't budge from his spot between him and the door.

"Will you just stop being stubborn and listen for one goddamned minute before you do something stupid and get yourselves killed?"

" _I'm_ being stubborn?" He stared at Lance in incredulous silence for a moment, because _pot, kettle_ , which the younger man took as an opening.

"Shiro-"

"No." He jerked his head and moved toward the door, ready to shove Lance out of the way if need be because he'd wasted enough time and he just needed to get this over with and he didn't have the energy to deal with Lance's insecurities right now, however unfounded they were. "We're done here. Whatever this is can wait until later. You know that. The mission comes first."

Lance actually growled at him then, the noise seeming to be born of pure frustration, before stalking forward and yanking his face down to crash their lips together. He almost jerked away out of instinct, but he stilled the movement that would have killed the moment before it even started. He had expected another argument or maybe a punch, because apparently he had yet to learn that Lance was anything but predictable. He was barely aware of dropping his helmet to pull Lance closer as their lips parted, too intent on wrapping his arms around the younger man's waist and deepening the kiss. The moment wasn't right- he could feel the anger funneling into frustration because there was never enough time to do things the right away, not even this- but this moment was happening and he wasn't letting it go without doing something about it. So he pulled Lance as tightly against him as his armor would allow and felt Lance's hands wrap around his neck in response. As first kisses went, it wasn't anything that would make it into a romance novel. It was hard and messy and just short of violent because they were both angry and frustrated and worried. It quickly devolved into something with a lot more tongue than should probably be involved in a semi-public place, but it was worth it. It was worth almost anything to hear the sound that was somewhere between desperate and broken escape from Lance's throat, because it meant that he wasn't alone in this and maybe he could even give this thing between them a label, if only in his head.

When they finally pulled back they didn't completely part, although they moved enough to allow space to flow back between them. They stared at each other wordlessly for a moment before Lance cleared his throat and shifted his expression to something that was more direct and less murderous, although the anger was still there in the set of his jaw. "Now that you've shut up, are you willing to listen for two seconds? Because this is about the mission and it's important, you jackass."

He wasn't completely sure he could make his voice work yet and his mind was still whirling, so he nodded. Maybe that was the best response anyway, because Lance's eyes softened fractionally. "It's about time. Look, there's something wrong with this. It's too neat a set-up and it just... feels wrong, okay? Kind of like a storm is coming, but not quite." His face scrunched up and he glanced away for a second before forcing his attention back to Shiro. "And the data aren't right, somehow. I don't understand the specifics, but there's something else going on here and I think the Blade are jumping to the conclusion they want to reach. Maybe accidentally, I don't know, but something's definitely off."

Shiro sighed and dropped his forehead down to Lance's in a bid for comfort, because the words were unsettling echoes of his own misgivings. "I know. But what are we supposed to do?"

"I'm getting there." Lance pulled away and was almost back to glaring at him again. "What we've- Hunk and Pidge and me- have been trying to tell you _all day_ is that they came up with a way to boost the range of the sensors so you can scan from a safer distance. Kind of like Blue's sonar, somehow, although apparently not really judging by the looks I get when I say that." He shook his head again and stepped back, letting his hands drag down from Shiro's neck. "Just take 5 minutes and talk to them. They're in the hanger. And be careful."

He stepped back enough that Shiro's lingering hands fell away from his waist. He let his arms fall back to his side and didn't reach out to pull Lance closer again, because now wasn't the time no matter how much he wanted it to be. Instead he stared into those eyes that were currently looking as unyielding as the ocean they reminded him of and nodded. "I will."

"Good." Lance turned toward the door but glanced back at him over his shoulder, the hands clenched into fists at his sides the only remaining physical sign that he was still pissed. "Because I thought we were past this thing where you pay attention to Keith but ignore the rest of us. Ignore _me_. And we're going to have a hell of a talk about that when you get back."

The words deflated the rest of his anger, and he leaned back against the locker behind him for support. "Yeah, okay."

Lance nodded and slapped a hand on the door sensor before pausing. "And Shiro?"

"Yeah?"

"I get that I'm younger than you, but don't ever patronize me like that again for no reason." With that he stalked out of the room with the air of someone who was regretting not being able to physically slam the door behind him. 

Shiro closed his eyes and let himself breathe, giving himself a moment to try and refind his focus before he had to head down to the hanger and face Hunk and Pidge. And apologize. Profusely. And maybe by the time they made it back out of this he'd be able to come up with some way to apologize to Lance.

***7***

Hours later, after they'd limped back to the castleship with the Lions dinged but no one seriously hurt because they'd known the ambush was probably coming, all he wanted to do was collapse somewhere and not move for the next few hours. It was late, because of course it was, so he held out hope that might be able to find Lance in his room, but apparently his life was never meant to be that easy.

So instead of sleeping, or at least crashing somewhere in the dark and not moving anything that ached, he was wandering the halls in the hopes of finding one person in a castle meant to house dozens if not hundreds more. Finally, after what felt like a varga of aimless wandering, he heard voices coming from Hunk's workroom. He paused in the doorway, eyes tracing the room until he found Lance on the floor with his back to the door holding something for Hunk to solder in place. Lance was holding perfectly still, but Shiro could read the tension in the lines of his back.

Hunk finally clicked off the iron and glanced up, eyes widening almost comically as he took in Shiro slumped in the doorway. "Oh, hey, Shiro."

Lance jerked his head up and whipped around so fast the circuit board would have hit the floor if Hunk hadn't caught it. He couldn't read Lance's expression as their eyes locked across the room, but it was something tight and hot and almost frantically hopeful. It was painful but he couldn't look away. Instead, their gazes held until the silence became almost stifling.

It was broken by Hunk, who got to his feet and set the panel back on a workbench with an unnaturally loud clatter. "Yeah, so, I'll just be going... well, anywhere that isn't here. Night, guys." He shot Shiro a nervous look as he edged around him out the door and took off down the hall at practically a run.

Shiro tore his gaze away from Lance to watch him go, and then turned back with a frown. "Did Hunk just run away from his lab?"

"Yep." Lance finished the p with a pop as he stood and brushed off his hands on his jeans. "Well, from us anyway. That seems to be a trend." Shiro's expression must have looked blank, because Lance sighed and leaned back against one of the benches. "First Keith, now Hunk."

"Oh. Yeah."

Lance didn't answer, just continued to watch him with what would have almost passed for lazy nonchalance if it wasn't for the tension that was still radiating from him. Shiro pushed away from the door with a sigh and walked carefully over toward the table. "Lance, look, about earlier..."

Lance's expression suddenly switched over to concern, though the lines of tension didn't ease. "I heard. We were in the control room. Are you okay?" He started to reach out with one hand but then seemed to think better of it and pulled it back tight to his side.

The rejection, however subtle, made Shiro wince. Lance must have read the expression as pain, because the concern solidified and he started to straighten until Shiro waved him off. "No, it's fine. I'm fine. Sore, but fine. Lance, look. I'm sorry about earlier. You were right. I was being an asshole. I just..." He closed his eyes and let his voice trail off, searching for the right words.

"Just what?" Lance's voice was back to the quiet careful control he only used when he was trying to hide his reaction to something. Shiro hated when he used that voice on him. Forcing his eyes back open, he reached out and caught one of Lance's hands in his own. 

"I don't know. Sometimes when it's too much, when things get overwhelming, I just kind of shut everyone else out. And I stop listening, because everything in my head is too loud and I start to react more than think. And it's not fair, and I need to do better. And I was especially not being fair to you and Pidge and Hunk, and I really am sorry. Because the things you say are important and worth listening to." He stopped and glanced down at their hands, almost choking on the wash of guilt and sorrow, on the feeling of not quite being good enough that he never seemed to escape. "If it helps any, I don't listen to Keith either, not really. He's just had years to experience in knowing how to be enough of a dick to regain my attention."

He risked a glance back up as Lance snorted out a short laugh. "Since that's his default mode of being, that shouldn't be hard for him."

"Lance."

He waved that away with his free hand. "I didn't say I didn't like him. Just, facts are facts." His expression grew slightly thoughtful. "Besides, if it works."

"I don't know," Shiro told him, tugging on his hand to urge him away from the table, "I kind of like your way better."

Lance blushed suddenly, color shooting up his face to the roots of his hair. It was adorable, and Shiro had to fight down a smile as Lance bit his bottom lip and let out a shaky breath. "Um, yeah, about that. I'm sorry, man. I just didn't know what to do and I was pissed and frustrated and I needed you to shut up and listen and the only I could think of to shut you up was... well, I mean, it worked, right?" Lance's free arm crossed his chest to nervously toy with the zipper of his hoodie and his eyes glanced at the door over Shiro's shoulder like he was thinking about following Hunk's example and bolting. 

Taking a step closer, he tightened his fingers on Lance's hand so he couldn't pull away. "Lance." He paused to wait for the younger man to stop fidgeting and look at him before he continued. "Did you mean it, or were you just trying to get my attention?"

"What?" Lance glanced up and then just as quickly glanced back at some spot over Shiro's shoulders, face still flushed. "No, I meant it. I was pissed, but I definitely meant it. Wanted it."

Shiro slid his prosthetic hand up to cup Lance's cheek. "Good." The word emerged as a whisper against Lance's lips before he gently brushed them with his own.

This time around was much different from the first. These kisses weren't fueled by anger and frustration, and there was no timetable to follow or mission schedule to adhere to. No armor to get in the way. Nothing but the two of them in an empty room and all the time in the world in the mostly sleeping castle to take things slow and explore. He deepened the kiss, sliding his hands up the smooth skin of Lance's back under his thin shirt and reveling in the taste of his mouth and the small sounds he was making. He had already mostly forgotten where they were when Lance pulled back slightly, eyes glazed and panting for breath. "Jesus, Shiro." His voice came out as a hoarse whisper that sent chills up Shiro's spine. Shiro hummed in reply and started to leave a trail of kisses from his sharp jawline to spot where his dark hair curled just under his ear, but paused when a sudden thought hit him. He caught the earlobe in his teeth while he thought it through, but it was the little gasp Lance made that decided him. 

"Call me by my name."

Lance paused a second. "Shiro?"

"No, my actual name."

There was another slight pause. "Takashi?"

His name, even in that careful, quiet voice, sent another shiver up his spine. He bit down on the skin just under and behind Lance's ear, earning another gasp in response before Lance pulled away a fraction.

"Wait, I thought you hated your name or something."

"What?" Shiro blinked at him and freed one hand to cup his cheek again. "No, why?

"I... don't know? I don't think I've ever heard anyone use it."

"It's...complicated." Satisfied that he'd answered that question enough for now, he turned his attention back to the long column of Lance's throat.

"Mmm." Lance subsided for a moment, one hand slipping down Shiro's side to wrap around his waist, but Shiro should have known he was incapable of letting it go. "So why do you want me to use it?"

Shiro whispered his answer against Lance's skin. "Because no one else does."

Lance pulled away again and stared at him for a second before his expression suddenly slid into something darker, something that was almost possessive. It was a good look. "Oh."

Shiro hummed in response again because he was done talking and would have turned back to his throat except that Lance turned his head to capture his lips in a kiss again, which was just as good. Possibly even better, because Lance's tongue swiped across his and the hand on his waist shoved his shirt out of the way to run up his abs. He backed them up until Lance's back hit the work table and then slid his hands down to Lance's thighs to hoist him up so that he was sitting on the edge. Lance gasped against his lips and wrapped those long legs around this waist, effectively both trapping him and erasing most of the space between them. Their kisses grew messier and less measured until Lance pulled back to catch his breath, and Shiro took a second to just look at him. He looked like something out of a wet dream, all swollen lips and dark eyes, with a flush across his cheeks and a bite mark starting to show high on his neck that sent an unexpected flash of possessiveness through him. He couldn't stop the growl that escaped him as Lance leaned back in to capture his lip with his teeth. His hips rocked forward into Lance's groin without conscious thought, and he was rewarded with a choked moan as Lance threw his head back. He grabbed the invitation to latch back on to Lance's neck just above his collarbone and sucked hard as he rocked his hips forward and yanked Lance closer to the edge of the table at the same time. He would never admit to the sound he made then, because holy shit, he wasn't aware that he could even sound like that, but it wasn't important, because Lance was repeating his name amid a nonstop quiet litany of nonsense words in a breathless voice that was setting all of his nerves on fire.

He was just tugging on the hem of Lance's shirt because the only clear thought in his head was _off, now_ when a voice cut like a knife through the haze of raw desire. 

"Seriously, guys? Do you have to do that here?"

The voice sounded irritated, but that wasn't worrying since irritated was practically Pidge's default state of being. They froze and stared at each other for a wordless moment with wide eyes before simultaneously turning them on the small figure in the doorway. Pidge's lips twitched in an expression that seemed to be shifting between amusement and exasperation before the amusement apparently won out, because they doubled over laughing. Which wasn't really fair, because it wasn't funny, it was _horrifying_ , because his missing best friend's little sister/youngest teammate had just walked in on him making out with his boyfriend, for lack of a better word, and holy shit, what if they'd walked in five minutes later? Because there was a decent chance there would have been a lot less- possibly no- clothes involved, and _he was supposed to be the responsible one!_

Lance dropped his legs from around Shiro's waist as his expression morphed into something between horrified and mortally embarrassed. Shiro considered stepping back, but the impulse was too late for damage control, and besides, he really didn't want to face that laughter alone. He did pull his hands out from under Lance's shirt and turn slightly so he was leaning on the table between Lance's legs with his hip. Lance tightened the arm still around his waist and leaned against his shoulder. "Please tell me they don't have a camera."

The words were soft, but they pulled a soft surprised laugh out of him and he pulled Lance fractionally closer. "I don't think so. IF they did there would have been more flashing and running and less laughing."

Pidge finally pulled themselves upright and leaned against the door frame, a wide smile still stretched across their face as they wiped their eyes underneath their glasses. "No, but oh my god, I wish I did. Your faces!" One hand came up to cover their mouth, but they didn't break off into hysterics again.

"Did you need something?" Lance's voice had adopted that edgy tone that only big brothers ever seemed to manage, which made Shiro want to smile.

"Yes, actually," they informed him in a perfectly haughty little sibling voice, striding in to the lab to snatch a tool kit off of the table by the door. "And you both owe me, because if Hunk found you having sex in his lab he'd have a stroke."

"We weren't..." Lance started a token protest but gave it up in the face of all the evidence to the contrary, including the fact that his hand was on the naked skin of Shiro's back under his rucked-up shirt. Instead he groaned and hid his flaming face in Shiro's chest. Which wasn't fair, if only because Shiro kind of wanted to do the same thing.

Pidge walked back to the door, but paused at the entry and looked at them with a suddenly serious expression. It reminded Shiro of their father, he realized with a sudden ache. "So it this really a thing now?"

Lance didn't look up, but he did save Shiro from having to answer by waving a hand vaguely in Pidge's direction. "Yes, it's a thing. You know it's a thing. It's obviously a thing. Can you just go and leave us to die of embarrassment in peace, already?"

Pidge looked at them both for a long minute, in which Shiro gave her a small smile and dropped his cheek onto Lance's hair. He was pretty sure he was as much of a blushing mess as the man hiding in his arms, but whatever Pidge saw must have been enough because their smile turned gentle before they left.

They stood there for a minute in silence, holding each other in the now quiet room, before Shiro reached up and tugged playfully on Lance's hair. "So, we're a thing, huh?"

Lance made a noncommittal sound as his fingers absently rubbed circles against the skin of Shiro's lower back. "Well, yeah, I mean, I guess, um. Are we... do you want to be a thing?"

He slid his hand to Lance's chin and tilted his face up. "Yes," he answered, "we're definitely a thing."

"Okay." The word was a quiet whisper against his lips as Lance leaned up to kiss him. The kiss was gentler this time, soothing and sweet and way too short before Lance pulled back enough to tap him on the chest. "And see, this is why we still need to talk."

"Sure." Shiro slid his fingers into Lance's short messy hair and kissed him again, still gentle but with slightly more bite. "Or we can talk later."

Lance leaned back again and sighed, his expression shifting toward resolute. "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but later could be next month the way things have been recently, and I'm not going to let things like this afternoon hang between us, okay? I care about you too much, and I don't want everything to fall apart because something gets left unsaid. Not just us, either. What if we can't form Voltron because of some stupid problem we could have fixed? We just.. I don't... I can't believe you're making me be the responsible one here!"

He sighed in defeat and turned fully toward Lance before pulling him closer again, but only to wrap his arms around him loosely and drop his head onto his shoulder. "I'm tired of being the responsible one all the time."

"I'm sorry, babe," Lance said softly into his hair, "but we really do need to talk."

"I know." 

"Somewhere else, though, because Pidge has probably found Hunk by now."

Shiro sighed again, because yeah, probably. "We can go to my room." He tried to keep the hopeful tone out of his voice, but he was sure that attempt crashed and burned.

"Nope!" Lance hopped down off the table and pulled him toward the door. "We're going to the couch in the observation room."

"What? Why?" Despite the protest, he let Lance set their direction, because there was a decent chance that he would do anything that Lance asked right at the moment, even if he wasn't intending to admit that out loud.

"Because it's uncomfortable and you hate it? So talking will actually get done? And because we've had a lot of good nights there?"

"Fine. But you'd better know I love you." His eyes widened as the words escaped, but Lance merely smiled brightly back in his direction.

"Good. That should make things easier."

***8***

Shiro woke the next morning slowly, coming to himself with a completely out of character sense of contentment that was slowly becoming familiar. He even felt a serious urge to just ignore the impending day in favor of snuggling down under the blanket with the source of heat against his back. It was a mostly novel feeling, and he was in no hurry to open his eyes and replace it with the brightness of day.

He was used to waking with a start and a moment of disorientation that typically propelled him out of bed almost immediately. His internal clock had started to wake him a few minutes before his alarm was scheduled to go off during his years at the Garrison. His wake schedule became so common that he'd often stopped setting his alarm altogether. So he was used to that internal timer jolting him awake and blurring the lines between dreamscape and reality for a few moments before the familiarity of his surroundings helped him regain his bearings. The feeling had only gotten worse since they'd arrived at the castle, when the combinations of nightmares and the sometimes crushing weight of responsibility stole his sleep completely for days on end, leaving exhaustion to cloud his mind and add more confusion to the mix.

He also really wasn't used to waking up with someone else touching him, and he was kind of surprised that the feeling of Lance curled up against his back with his arm slung loosely over his chest wasn't making him feel confined. It wasn't, though, and hadn't yet in the few nights that they'd actually managed to share a bed. His night had even been mostly dream-free as far as he could remember, which was probably at least partially due to the lack of sleep. He was actually kind of proud of himself for getting them both back to his bed at all last night, honestly, because they'd talked for a long time. But he had, and despite his original intentions they'd both been asleep within minutes, too emotionally worn out to do much more than collapse. It had been worth it, he was pretty sure, and he was willing to admit that Lance was right, because their lives were too hectic to waste chances, and he actually did feel remarkably better this morning. Calmer, maybe.

Or at least he did, until he finally cracked his eyes open and glanced at the clock Hunk and Pidge had retrofitted for them to correspond to ship time not long after they'd arrived. Riding on a wave of confusion, he closed his eyes and reopened them, but the numbers remained the same. Apparently his internal clock had failed him for the first time in years, because according to the numbers staring him in the face they were scheduled for training in less than 30 minutes.

Cursing silently, he rolled over and was immediately distracted by the sight of Lance's sleeping face. For someone who almost never stopped moving when he was awake, Lance was a surprisingly peaceful sleeper. The lines of stress brought on by years of fighting a 10,000-year-old war smoothed out, leaving him looking younger than his actual age. Shiro raised his hand and brushed his fingertips gently against the younger man's cheek, face relaxing into a soft small when Lance leaned into the touch without waking. He brushed his fingers from his cheek up to his hairline to smooth his bangs back away from his forehead, sending out a wish to whatever deity that might be listening for more time, because he thought he could spend days like this, just curled up in bed with Lance next to him. Sounds from the hall reminded him that today wasn't that day, though, and he shifted a bit to pull Lance closer. 

"Lance?"

Lance's only reaction was to scoot closer still, tightening the arm slung over Shiro's back and burying his face in Shiro's throat. Shiro felt his smile widen despite the need to get them moving and allowed his own arm to slide over Lance's hip and up his back.

"Come on, love, we have to get up."

"No."

A laugh escaped him at the sleepy reply, and he pulled back enough to see Lance's face. "Sadly, yes."

"Unnnh." Lance tried to roll away from him, but Shiro caught him and held him in place until blue eyes blinked grudgingly open in a sleepy glare.

Lance opened his mouth to say something- probably a protest- and then snapped it shut again as the sleep started to clear from his eyes. Shiro gave in to the urge to tangle their legs together and traced soothing circles over the ridges of Lance's spin through his shirt. "What?"

Lance suddenly smiled at him, the expression almost rueful. "I guess I can't call you Space Dad anymore, can I?"

Shiro snorted and pulled his arm back. "Try it and see how fast I kick you out of this bed."

"I thought you were doing that anyway." He tried to roll away again, because of course he did, but Shiro caught his arm and pulled him close enough to press a soft kiss to his lips just because he could. "Yes, but only because we have to be at training in," he paused as he glanced over at the clock, "twenty-five minutes now."

Lance groaned and rolled over on his back, rubbing at his eyes with one hand. "Seriously?"

Shiro sat up and stretched. "Yep."

"Fuck my life."

***9***

Lance ran into the dining room a couple of minutes after Shiro, still trying to pull on his armor in anticipation of training. Keith glanced at the clock on the wall and raised an eyebrow at Lance's state, which was disheveled even for him. "Five minutes to spare. Not bad for a change."

"Shut up, Keith." 

Keith smirked at him in reply, but Lance ignored him in favor of trying to snap on his shin guards and grab a bowl of food goo at the same time. Shiro watched him surreptitiously while he quickly ate, fighting down a smile as Hunk grabbed the bowl away from him before it spilled and helping him finish snapping on his chest plate. His normally placid face suddenly lit up in an evil smile as he handed Lance back his bowl. "I guess that means you worked things through last night?"

Shiro blinked as Lance shot his best friend a confused look that ended when Hunk flicked a very obvious bruise on his neck that Shiro had completely forgotten about. He ripped his eyes away from Lance and turned back to his goo, blatantly ignoring Keith's and Pidge's smirks as he felt his own face heat up. He was saved from whatever awkwardness he was expecting by Lance, who smacked him lightly on the back of the head as he walked by. "You could have warned me."

"Heh. I kind of forgot." Lance dropped down into his usual seat next to Keith and across from him and rolled his eyes dramatically at the others, who had moved from smirks to full-on grins, before giving in and smiling at him. The way it made his eyes light up made Shiro's heart flip. He'd just dropped his spoon into his dish when Coran appeared in the doorway, bouncing with his usual inexhaustible energy. "Okay, paladins! Let's get started. We have an exciting training schedule planned out for you today!"

Lance sighed in defeat as everyone shifted up, eyes dropped mournfully back to his bowl before he dropped his spoon and joined them.

***10***

There was a not-so-buried part of Shiro that expected training to be awkward now that things were out in the open and everyone knew. If he'd been asked in the beginning whether he'd have ever considered having a relationship with a teammate, the horror would have been overwhelming. His Garrison training had drilled into him topics like decorum and conduct befitting an officer, even if he'd barely been an officer- barely an adult, for that matter- and had only "led" one mission, with three people total. And that was more of a collaboration that a mission until everything went horribly wrong.

His current reality was different, though. Not only from that first mission, because here he _was_ a leader and he needed his team to (mostly) follow orders in the heat of battle. It was also different because his team was like nothing the Garrison had ever imagined. For starters, there were only five of them (okay, technically seven, plus four mice as a bonus) out here in space for years with more years stretching before them without end. Sure, they had allies, but that situation was fluid and their core was unchanging. Beyond the logistics, though, there were other considerations. The very essence of Voltron meant that they spent quite a lot of time in each other's heads. Yes, Shiro was the leader, and he was constantly gratified that his younger teammates had developed an instinctive drive to (again, mostly) obey whenever he used his "leader voice", but they were more than just the leader and four cadets they'd been when they'd first been highjacked by Blue. Now they were a team in the real meaning of the word. They trusted each other, and they knew each other's strengths and weaknesses inside and out. So he was fairly certain he could do this with Lance and trust that the others would tell him if something was broken or out of alignment before his personal decisions hurt their ability to form Voltron. 

He was also pleasantly surprised to learn that not only did he trust Lance to not try to take advantage of the situation but that the trust was apparently well-founded, because training that morning went off without a hitch. All the time they'd spent together recently must have served to strengthen their paladin bonds, because they somehow managed to jump two levels in their gladiator training rounds before anyone ended up falling through the floor (Lance, because the Blue Paladin was at heart a self-sacrificing idiot who moved his shield to cover Hunk at the expense of taking a shot in the side, which was probably going to be a new source of nightmares for Shiro at some point). Even Allura and Coran were free with praise for almost a full dobosh before firing up the next simulation, which was practically equivalent to a parade under most circumstances.

Shiro had just called a break for lunch and watched in amusement as his teammates collapsed on the floor when the castle alarms went off. Allura and Coran took off from the training room controls at a run, followed closely by the paladins. They skidded to a stop in front of the monitor, eyes wide and breathing hard but totally present, which was also a gratifying improvement.

The alarm came from a coded high priority distress call from a nearby planet that was part of the Voltron Alliance. The planet had been part of the Galra supply lines since before Rome fell on Earth due to its lush agricultural potential and mineral contents. They were under attack by a small Galra fleet intent on reclaiming the prize for the Empire. They headed for their lions with a minimum of grumbling, because they wouldn't be his teammates if there was no complaining.

"Why do the Galra have to attack at lunchtime? Seriously, why doesn't the universe want me to eat today?"

"Hey, hold on."

Shiro rolled his eyes and risked a glance behind him. Hunk stopped to rummage in his station and emerged with a handful of goo bars he'd been experimenting with for situations like this, because they'd all learned that having your blood sugar crash because there'd been no time to eat for hours sucked.

Lance's eyes lit up as he caught the one Hunk threw him. "Hunk, you're the best!"

The big man grinned back and tossed the others the rest. Shiro felt a wave of pride at his team, because while the gesture didn't seem like much, it would help keep them focused and he was rapidly learning that it was the little things that held them together.

Still, though, they had a job to do. "Guys, focus. Work now, eat later. The Riaxu are our allies and deserve our support." 

The assent that greeted him was more enthusiastic this time, and he felt the welcome rush of adrenaline as he turned toward the shortcut to Black. He'd just grabbed hold of the bar when his name stopped him cold.

"Takashi, wait!"

He froze and glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing as Lance skidded to a halt behind him. "Lance-"

"No, wait. I never told you last night, and I just need to say this." The blue paladin laid a hesitant hand on Shiro's shoulder, eyes serious and direct. "I love you." Despite the adrenaline, or maybe because of it, Shiro felt his heart skip and something like joy race along his nerves. He dropped the bar to turn fully and pull Lance to him in a short but fierce kiss. 

"I love you too." Lance grinned up at him, and Shiro couldn't have stopped the return smile if his life had depended on it. He gave Lance a playful shove toward Blue's entrance, smile turning almost feral as he felt Black roar in anticipation in his mind. "Now get out there before Keith beats you."

Lance laughed and disappeared, and Shiro followed him, everything but the need to be in Black and to let the lions fly free fading from his mind.

***11***

At the end of the battle they were victorious, because in all honesty a small fleet of Galra ships wasn't all that much of an obstacle for them anymore, especially when the commanders seemed to be averse to taking any risks beyond showing up in the first place. The whole episode would have been a footnote in the history of the war at best if it hadn't happened a couple of more times with different target planets over the course of the next two days. The commander behind the attacks personally led the last ditch effort, which effectively put an end to that strategy. The final outcomes in brutally honest terms were some target practice and a chance to try new strategies by the fourth attack, the loss of a dozen or so of the Galra's seemingly endless supply of warships, and a loss of sleep, which had become enough of a habit by now for everyone that they almost didn't notice it.

The second day ended with a formal banquet on the first planet, Riax, to both reaffirm the loyalty of all of the attacked planets and their neighbors to the Alliance and to celebrate the victory. Shiro spent most of the evening escorting Allura, because the princess was as impulsive as Keith and he was never comfortable leaving her unguarded in public forums. He kept half his attention on the other paladins in a bid to stop any shenanigans before they got out of control, but since most of their focus was on eating food that wasn't in goo bar form and they'd reached the slap happy _yay, people!_ stage of sleep deprivation but hadn't yet started daring each other to try to climb the tower walls (which had happened the first time on the planet, because _the walls were covered with ivy like a fairy tale, Shiro, and there might be cool stuff up there!_ ), so it was a mostly quiet evening.

He had reached the stage of nodding and smiling and keeping half of his mind on whatever Allura and the diplomats from the other planets were discussing so he could mentally review it later when he looked down into the brightly smiling face of someone's grandmother. Well, he didn't _know_ that she was someone's grandmother, but she had the "I'm too old for tact so I'm going to say what I think and you'll jump to do it" look perfected, so she probably was. She was a member of the delegation from Arspor, if he remembered correctly. Anyway, she was a four-foot-tall lizard with iridescent scales and wings, and he was pretty sure that meant Arspor. Her large eyes were trained on Shiro, and her mouth was quirked up in what he was certain was a mischievous smile despite the disturbing number of teeth. Resisting the urge to bolt that was ingrained from seeing that smile on the face of one of his own grandmothers, he schooled his expression into a polite diplomatic smile. "Hello."

"Hello, dear. Are you enjoying the celebration?"

"Yes, absolutely. It's always a privilege to celebrate victories with the people who support the Alliance." 

"Yes, I'm sure it is." Her smile widened and she reached up to pat his hand, and years of experience made Shiro's smile freeze despite his best efforts. "Of course, you're young, aren't you? I'm sure you'd much rather be off celebrating somewhere else than standing around listening to the leaders talk."

"No, really, it's an honor to be here."

She made a sound of agreement and somehow he knew her smile was turning sly despite her lack of human features. "Of course, no doubt." She paused and patted his hand again, expression suddenly shifting toward innocent. "Did you know that my people can read quintessence?"

Shiro blinked at the apparent non-sequitur. "No, I didn't. Is that why the Galra targeted you?"

"Yes, in part." Her expression turned thoughtful for a moment before she shook herself back to the present. "It's hard to target people who can read your intentions. It's amazing that the druids always expected us to believe their pretty words. No matter. Sand outside the gates. The ability does have interesting uses, though."

"I'm sure it does," Shiro assured her. "Your people are amazing diplomats."

"Yes, there is that." She patted his hand again. The gesture was starting to worry him. "It lets us read people. For instance, I know that a significant amount of your attention has been somewhere else all evening." She put a lot of unnecessary emphasis on the words _somewhere else_ and turned her gaze somewhere behind him. Already knowing what he was going to find, he risked a glance over his shoulder. Lance and Pidge were standing in a doorway at the far end of the room talking to some of the younger members of one of the delegations. One of the Riaxu was acting out something that was making them both laugh. Lance glanced at him at that moment and their eyes met across the room. His breath left him in a rush, because Lance's eyes were dancing with laughter and his bright smile softened as their gazes held until the old woman's laughter recalled his attention with a snap.

"Yes, that's the flare I'm talking about." He felt his face flame up, because he'd been so careful to avoid staring at Lance all night and apparently his quintessence was betraying him. It was incredibly unfair.

The old woman pressed something into his hand with a cackling laugh. "It's nothing to worry about, child. Go celebrate! Take some advice from your elder and never pass up life's good moments." She leaned closer, squeezed his hand, and continued in what was probably supposed to be a conspiratorial whisper. "Besides, the blue one wants you just as much as you want him." With a final pat of his hand she turned her attention to Allura, who was watching Shiro with eyes crinkled up in amusement and one hand over her mouth to hide her smile. With horrified certainty, he slowly opened his fingers and stared at the bottle the little old woman had pressed into his palm. The liquid in it sloshed slightly as his hand shook. He was not even going to ask why a little lizard lady had a bottle full of what had to be lube on her at a diplomatic party, because he was terrified someone would answer. Instead, he reached out and snagged the arm of Hunk's formal jacket as the Yellow Paladin made the mistake of walking by close enough to reach.

"Hunk, can you stay here with Allura and Coran for a bit?"

Hunk nodded, expression shifting from his usual smile toward concern over whatever he saw on Shiro's face. "Sure, boss man. What's up?"

"Nothing." Shiro's voice came out too high and he curled his fingers back over the bottle in his hand to try to hide it. "Nothing," he repeated, trying for a more normal tone and almost nailing it. "I'm just going to go and throw myself off the cliff now."

He ignored the snort of totally undiplomatic laughter from Allura and the look of confusion on Hunk's face as he escaped.

***12***

He only let his himself linger outside- he refused to use the word _hide_ because he was the quiznaking Black Paladin - for a maybe 10 doboshes or so before duty called him back to the ballroom. The little bottle was safely hidden in a pocket. He could still feel the heat on his face as he scanned the crowd, but he was going to resolutely ignore the possibility that every Aspori in the room had been reading whatever his quintessence had been doing all night, because no. He finally located Allura in a pocket off the dance floor, still flanked by Coran and Hunk, which was excellent, because he was done.

Instead he wandered the outskirts of the room until he found his three missing paladins crashed in a small library-like room with a roaring fire and a random scattering of aliens. He dropped down onto the couch with a groan next to Lance, who was holding a glass of something bubbly and glowing that looked promising. As Lance turned a smile on him, he stole the glass, downed it in one gulp, and buried his face in his boyfriend's neck. Lance tensed for a moment in what was probably surprise, but didn't push him away. Granted, it was a bit more contact than he usually initiated in a room full of their teammates, much less strangers, but he'd just had to politely listen to someone's grandmother give him advice on his sex life and fuck everyone if they thought they weren't going to suffer with him.

"Hey, babe. Rough night?" Lance's voice was amused, and fingers came up to rub through his hair at his neckline. He resisted the urge to push into the touch like a cat.

"Are we really that obvious?" The words emerged muffled but were apparently understandable, because the answers were immediate.

"Yep." That was Keith, to the point as always and adopting a smug _"we've had this discussion, Shiro"_ tone that demanded retribution at a time to be determined later.

"Oh my God, yes." Pidge, but at least they sounded more amused than exasperated.

"Wait, were you trying not to be?"

He turned a sideways half-glare at an alien he didn't know in response to that last comment and ignored the rest as Lance made sympathetic noises and patted his head while trying to hide a smile. "Probably, why?"

Shiro shifted closer and buried his face again, because Lance smelled amazing. "Apparently my quintessence does interesting things when I look at you. Or possibly think about you. I don't even know anymore."

Lance tried, but his shoulders started to shake with silent laughter, the traitor. Shiro poked him in the side, because he deserved sympathy here, damn it. "A little old lady told me that, Lance! I'm traumatized for life. I can never look at a grandmother again."

Lance's snorted out a laugh he couldn't stop, and he heard Pidge crack up from the floor. He considered kicking Pidge but decided to poke Lance again instead, because he was still suffering alone here. "Don't laugh at me. Apparently your quintessence also does interesting things."

Lance leaned back enough to grin at him. "I'm amazingly okay with that."

"Really? Because, seriously babe, a little old lady just gave me lube and told me I needed to get laid and that's _all your fault_."

Lance's eyes suddenly shifted towards a look that was slightly more intent that amused. He opened his mouth to say something, but he was interrupted by Keith clearing his throat pointedly. For a second, he thought his almost-brother had his back and decided Keith was his favorite, but the universe apparently hated him.

"Wait. Is this a sex thing? Because we're all sharing a room tonight, and seriously, no."

That set Lance off again. Shiro huffed out a breath and tried to convince himself that he was not pouting. He was traumatized. He was going to need years of therapy just to forget that conversation, or possibly another one of the bubbly drinks. With that thought he pushed away from Lance long enough to snatch Pidge's drink from one lax hand and down it, because they weren't old enough to drink anyway. Ignoring the squawk of protest, he dropped back against Lance and let the bubbly heat rising in his chest and the solid weight of Lance against his side chase some of the mortification away.

***13***

They didn't manage to get a room to themselves until two days later.

Usually he didn't mind sharing space with his fellow paladins. True, he needed some time alone- he always had, at least to some extent, and now sometimes he had moods that demanded solitude. Something about the paladin bonds seemed to help almost stabilize him when all five of them were together, though, in some way he didn't understand. Honestly, he'd given up trying to actively understand most of what they did- they flew giant sentient robot cats that formed into a robot that could take down spaceships; what was the point of trying to insert logical reasoning into his life anymore? The only exception was the random nights he lay awake in his bed unable to sleep and entertained himself with the thought of trying to explain any of this to a Garrison psychologist at some distant point in the future. For the last two days, though, he'd been chafing at the need for restraint, and he was sure it probably showed, because when their current hosts asked if they wanted separate rooms, the answers from the others had been pretty immediate.

There had been a need to visit other worlds after they left Riax, mostly for diplomacy but also to ensure that the attempts at Galra recursion into the sector were truly finished for the moment. On trips like these they often stayed in the castleship, but many of the more populated or- to use Pidge's favorite term- "geographically challenged" planets didn't have a place to land the giant ship in proximity to the meeting site. A case in point was their current base of operations on a world with almost 90% of its surface covered by oceans. Lance and Pidge had been gleefully comparing their current housing to the water world on Star Wars, and they actually weren't far off. The inhabitants of the planet could survive on both land and under water, although they made their homes somewhere in the deep green ocean that was surrounding them. Sometime in the distant past they had constructed huge structures that resembled Earth malls to trade for goods from off world and hold meetings with other species, which made them the political center of this part of their sector.

Despite his protests at the lack of mermaids on this planet, Lance spent most of his time at the windows that lined the upper decks as if drawn by the gentle swells of the surf that surrounded them. That was where Shiro found him as the sun was dipping below the horizon, turning the sea a bright shade of emerald against the deep violet and onyx of the twilight sky. His forehead and palms were pressed to the glass, normally tan skin tinted with faint greens and shadowed purples by the fading sunset. The melancholy look on his face pulled at Shiro's heart as he walked up behind him and made him oddly reluctant to touch him, as if somehow he'd be interfering with something he didn't understand. Instead he leaned on the window next to him, turning his head to watch Lance's face.

"Hey." Lance's voice was soft against the backdrop of noise in the upper levels of the complex, and there was something in his eyes as he glanced over at Shiro that made him think of the oceans at home, tranquil on top but with rip currents and unseen things moving in their depths. It was a look that almost made him shiver, and he shifted closer to Lance until their arms were brushing in response.

"Have you been here all day?"

"No," Lance answered, turning his eyes back out toward the sea but leaning slightly into Shiro, "but it's been a while, I think."

Shiro watched him for a moment before tilting his own head to look outside at the dying light. "There's food downstairs if you're hungry."

"Not really."

Shiro brushed their fingers together but didn't take his hand, not wanting to push. "Do you want to be alone?"

"No." He relaxed a bit at the immediate answer, although Lance's attention didn't really turn from the window. "Can we," he paused and glanced at Shiro again, sucking his lip between his bottom teeth, "can we just stay here for a little longer?"

Shiro felt a rush of affection and smiled softly at the hopeful look on Lance's face. "Of course we can. As long as you want.

Lance smiled back at him, and if his smile still held echoes of sadness Shiro didn't say anything. Ignoring the crowd surging around them, he moved them down to the floor and pulled Lance's back against his chest so that the younger man was wrapped in the cage of his arms and legs. Lance snuggled back against him and rested his head on Shiro's shoulder, sighing as he turned his attention back to the world outside the window. Shiro pressed a kiss into his hair and rested his cheek on Lance's head as the last of the sun fell from sight and the first stars started to appear in the clear sky. They stayed there for a long while after, Shiro quietly holding Lance in a protective embrace while his mind was half a universe away.

***14***

By the end of the week even Allura and Coran were tired of diplomacy. The castleship was currently heading toward a distress beacon in a nearby system, but the beacon wasn't new and didn't appear to be particularly urgent, so they were traveling without a wormhole for the unspoken purpose of giving everyone a break.

Shiro paused in the hallway outside of Lance's door, shifting the contents of the bundle in his arm to knock. Lance answered almost immediately, eyes widening with surprise as he ran a towel through his still-damp hair. 

"Shiro? I'm not late for dinner, am I? I should have had plenty of time..."

His voice trailed off as he turned to drop the towel over the back of the chair. Shiro followed him, letting his eyes travel over the smooth expanse of Lance's shirtless back as he dropped his own bundle down on the table.

"No, you're fine." Lance reached for the shirt on his bed, but Shiro grabbed it away with a smirk and moved to lock the door. "Besides, we're not going to dinner."

He turned and leaned back against the wall, Lance's shirt balled up in his fingers. Lance was still standing next to the bed, regarding him with an amused smirk and one raised eyebrow. "Really? Why's that?"

"Because," Shiro informed him, stalking forward and dropping the shirt on the chair where it was mostly out of Lance's reach, "I still owe you dinner, if I remember right."

Lance's face scrunched up for a moment before suddenly clearing with a sunny smile. "Yep, you totally do!" The expression froze as he glanced at the box on the table. "You didn't make dinner, did you?"

Shiro laughed at that and stepped close enough to slide his hands down Lance's sides to rest on his hips. "No, you're safe. Hunk made it. And it's supposed to stay warm in there for at least a couple of vargas, so we have plenty of time."

"Really?" Lance's smile brightened again, and he shifted closer to rest his arms around Shiro's neck. 

"Really." He moved his hands around to the small of Lance's back and pulled him until their chests were touching, smiling back as he brushed their lips together. "And everyone promised to leave us alone for anything except a direct attack on the castle."

"Mmm." Lance kissed him back, keeping the touch to a still gentle press of his lips. "All night?"

"All night," he promised, tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

Lance made a soft but enthusiastic sound in response, arms tightening as he pushed up onto his toes. Shiro let himself get lost in the kiss for a moment before he picked Lance up and dropped him down on the bed.

"Jesus, you're so hot when you do that. Have I ever told you that?"

"No," Shiro answered, tugging his own shirt and vest off together and tossing them to join Lance's on the chair, because they'd waited long enough for this and he was done wasting time.

"Well, you are." Lance paused as he watched him, eyes tracking every moment he made. "Please tell me you have the lube that old lady gave you."

Flashing a slightly pained smile at the memory, he tugged the bottle out of his pocket and tossed it to Lance. "Of course."

Lance held it up to the light and shook it. "You're sure it's safe, right?"

"I'm sure," he told him, dropping down onto the bed and straddling Lance's hips. 

"Good," Lance's voice emerged as an almost breathy whisper as he stared up at him, bottle mostly forgotten in his fingers. "Then come here."

Shiro smiled down at him as he gently pushed them back and settled his weight onto his arms bracketing either side of Lance's head. "With pleasure."

***15***

Later, as they cuddled on the bed with Lance's fingers idly tracing random patterns on his chest, his eyes were drawn to the table he'd sent his bundles down on. "I've got something for you."

Lance laughed softly, planting a kiss on Shiro's shoulder without stilling the movement of his hands. "I know, and it was awesome. Remind me to give that grandma a kiss if we ever see her again."

Shiro huffed in exasperation and pushed Lance off of his chest as the younger man laughed. "Seriously, will you stop bringing up the most embarrassing conversation of my life while we're in bed?"

"Nope! I love that little old lady. Best grandma ever."

He groaned and swiped his human hand over his eyes. "Remind me again why I put up with you?"

"Because you looovvvee me," Lance answered in a cheerful sing-song voice.

Shiro rolled over and brushed his tousled hair gently out of face. "I do love you."

Lance shot him a brilliant smile and kissed him. "Of course you do. I'm amazing."

Shiro rolled his eyes and leaned over him to reach the table, huffing out a laugh as Lance groped him. "Seriously, wait a second." His fingers grasped the edge of a small package and he pulled it over. Lance's eyes grew wide as he dropped it onto his chest. "Takashi, what?"

Shiro arranged himself on his side and propped his head up on one hand. "Just open it."

Lance stared at him wide-eyed for another long moment before sitting up and pulling off the paper. He stared at the small square painting as the paper fell away, eyes going from wide to huge and almost liquid. "Takashi." His name was a barely there breathless whisper again, and he felt a sudden rush of nerves.

"It's supposed to be water," he began, but he stopped as Lance shook his head.

"It's everything water can be."

Shiro sat up to look at him more closely. "I'm not even going to pretend that I understand that."

Lance shook his head and glanced up at him with tear-filled eyss. "Where did you find this?"

"I asked an artist on the water world to paint water." He smiled slightly at the memory. "It took some convincing. He thought I was crazy. He kept refusing until I told him it was for you." Lance just blinked at him before glancing back down at the painting in his hands. "Do you like it?"

"It's perfect," Lance answered him in a soft voice. He looked back up and reached out to cup Shiro's face in his hands. "You're perfect. How are you even real?"

He felt his smile turn pained. "No, I'm not, Lance. I'm a mess."

"True."

"Ouch. You didn't have to agree that fast."

Lance smiled but didn't release his face. "But you fight to overcome it every day. You're the strongest person I've ever met, Takashi. I love you so much."

He took a deep breath, because looking into those sincere wide blue eyes he could almost believe those words. "If I am it's because you give me something to fight for. Something to believe in." He reached up to place his human hand over one of Lance's on his face. "I love you too."

Lance turned to set the painting safely aside on the table and then pulled him into a kiss. He let himself be pulled back down into his boyfriend's embrace, happiness infusing his entire being with warmth as the kisses slowly grew more passionate. They could take their time, because even if most of their time together consisted of short breaks in long stretches of duty and responsibility, even stolen moments could eventually add up to a lifetime.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of parts of this that I either cut out to make this focus really solely on Shiro and Lance or because I didn't think they were really necessary at the moment but I still liked them. Things like a conversation with Shiro and Keith, another one with Hunk, Pidge, and Lance, the music room scene (parts 1 and 2, actually), Shiro trying to convince the artist to paint water (btw- the painting was inspired by a small painting I bought at a gallery hop last weekend, because those are the exact words I used to describe it), and the smut that I chickened out of writing at the end because I need a drink to do that and it's currently not even 11 AM. So I may add random bits in here and there as separate "chapters" and just kind of reference where they'd be in the original when I feel like it. Especially the last one.
> 
> And now I'm going to go and take my mother out for a pre-mother's day lunch like the dutiful child that I am and not have a heart attack about posting this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro and Keith have a talk. Takes place between chapters 5 and 6.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should absolutely under no circumstances be allowed to listen to music while I run. I've said this before, but it bears repeating. Because this morning _Work Song_ by Hozier came on and then I had to finish this. Immediately. From the 4 sentences that I had originally written and cut out. Because apparently my Ipod is a sadist with no concern for the amount of work on my schedule for today.
> 
> As a note, I'm adding this as a chapter instead of a side fic in the series because it is kind of a short interlude that takes place somewhere between chapters 5 and 6 (-ish) instead of after the end of the fic. The tone is still mostly the same (so! fluffy!), and this bit is still Shiro's point of view.
> 
> This may require more proof-reading, but I need to get it off of my toolbar so I can finish my professional work for the day sometime before midnight.

***5.1***

Shiro pressed a bit closer to the solid presence of Keith behind him as the gladiators surrounded them and tried to clear his mind. He felt his muscles tense and was aware of an echoing tension in Keith's form, which was what he was trying to prevent, not promote, but he was having a hard enough time not launching himself at the approaching forms to cast any judgement.

_Patience yields focus._

He silently repeated the mantra to himself, willing it to work. He just needed to wait a few more seconds, just until the bots settled in to a formation that they could work with...

A flash caught his attention from the periphery, a bot shifting from the slow careful progression to a rapid feint at Keith's side, and he reacted before the reminder to himself to _wait_ could tamp down the impatience. He spun and took off the gladiator's arm with one swipe of his modified hand before turning to face the now chaotic advance of the remaining bots. 

Keith shifted with him, the younger man's movements losing a bit of their fluidity as he let out a laugh of pure glee and spun his bayard in a wide arc. The move allowed Shiro to pivot and turn on the bots taking a running start at his flank. He let his own expression transition into a feral smile as he pulled back his Galra fist, activated his bayard with his other hand, and ran at the approaching bots with a wordless shout.

It was over in minutes. Silence broken only by their heavy breathing descended on the room as they surveyed the damage with satisfaction. The bots still littered the floor, a leftover modification from a program Pidge coded to simulate battlefield conditions where enemies stayed down and made footing uncertain.

"End training program." Shiro glanced back at Keith, who was watching the pieces disappear under the training room floor with open amusement. His smile widened into something real and all too rare as he glanced up and met Shiro's eyes. "Well, that was fun."

Shiro grinned back, allowing himself a moment to just enjoy the pure rush from the mayhem. "Yeah, it was." His smile faltered a bit as reality came rushing back in, and he dropped down on the floor with a sigh. "Totally not the point of the exercise, but fun."

"Hey, at least you broke first this time. Progress, right?" He dropped down to the floor and reached over to nudge Shiro with his hand. "Seriously, though, do you want to talk about it?"

Shiro froze, one hand halfway extended in the act of reaching for his water pouch. "Talk about what?" He glanced around the room, aware that his gaze was darting everywhere except at Keith but unable to stop it. He was just barely holding in the urge to jump up and start another training program, because apparently he was a mess of a person who was incapable of holding a conversation now.

"Whatever has you so distracted that you actually forget the point of an exercise and start attacking bots like me? Ring any bells?"

He took a deep breath and finished reaching for the water with feigned disinterest. "Sorry. I guess I'm a little keyed up." He took a drink, which was a valid attempt at hydration and not an excuse to avoid the question.

"No kidding." He noted with a touch of guilt that Keith was starting to sound worried, so he continued to avoid looking at him like the completely responsible adult he was.

"I'm fine." He squeezed the water pouch with a bit more force than was strictly necessary and really hoped Keith hadn't noticed, because when the hell did he get this _flustered_?

Keith made a noncommittal noise and reached for his own water, which Shiro took as a hopeful sign that he was going to let the conversation drop. He should have known better. Keith didn't often decide they were going to discuss something personal, but when he did, he beat that horse right into the ground.

"So... Lance, huh?"

Shiro choked and almost dropped his water, because yep, there was the Keith he knew. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Liar." Keith reached over and nudged him again, and Shiro gave in and glanced at him. The completely open and almost earnest look on Keith's face surprised him. "Seriously, Shiro, you don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, but something's bothering you and you wouldn't let me get away with being this distracted." He pulled his blade into his lap, eyes dropping with uncertainty as one finger ran up the hilt. "I get it if you don't want to talk to me, but you should talk to someone."

The soft words hit him like a punch to the gut. He gave up the pretense with a sigh and dropped down backwards onto the mat with a touch of dramatic flair that he was willing to blame on Lance, because this was all his fault anyway. "No, you're right. I am distracted, and I shouldn't be. It's just…" He let out a frustrated sigh and stared up at the ceiling. "It's complicated."

Keith snorted. Shiro was pretty sure he also rolled his eyes, but he refused to give him the satisfaction of looking. "It's really not. You're obviously crazy about each other. You've been eye fucking each other whenever you're in the same room for longer than thirty seconds for weeks. Just do something about it before Pidge decides to take creative steps."

"Steps." Shiro glanced to the side and tried the look they'd all dubbed the Space Dad glare no matter how much he tried to deny it, but Keith appeared to be impervious. Possibly through years of repetitive exposure.

Keith gave a mock shudder. "You don't want to go there. They have _plans_."

"Great." He bit his lip and looked back at the totally non-judgmental ceiling. 

He heard rather than saw Keith shift closer. "I just don't see what the problem is. If you're worried about the rest of us and how we might react, I can speak for us all when I tell you that we don't care. You're obviously good for each other. Lance hasn't even flirted with someone and caused an intergalactic incident in months. Just go for it. Be happy. Get laid and stop quiznaking pining all over the place." 

He glanced over at Keith with wide eyes, mentally flailing for some sort of reply to that, because a large part of his brain had short-circuited at Keith telling him he should get laid. He blinked his eyes and tried to regain his ability to speak, because he had 10,000 things to do today and he didn't want to admit that Keith may have broken him. "Um, yeah. Thanks, I think."

"Anytime." Keith was sounding more contemplative than smug, so he probably wasn't done. He resisted the urge to sigh again. Or possibly take Keith's advice and just go find Lance and pin him against any wall that was available, which was a plan most of him was willing to get behind. Which brought him back to the problem.

"I just... what if this is a horrible idea? What if it doesn't work out? What if I'm wrong? What if I'm just really sex-deprived and I wake up tomorrow and realize that this was a horrible mistake?"

"Breathe, Shiro. You're overthinking this."

Shiro rubbed his face with his hands and refused to react to Keith's amused smirk. Strangling the Red Paladin was probably a bad choice in the long run. "Am I?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, for starters you're asking me for relationship advice."

"Fair point." His let his arms flop to his sides and pulled himself up into a sitting position. "I just really don't want to screw this up, Keith. It's too important. _He's_ too important." 

"Shiro..." Keith's voice trailed off into the tone he used when he was out of his depth. Apparently he was willing to try, though, because his brow was furrowing like it did when he was deep in thought, which normally and under virtually any other circumstances would have made Shiro proud. Finally he took a deep breath and looked at him with a gaze that was a little more penetrating than Keith usually went for. "Do you really think it might be a mistake?"

He released his breath in a rush and shifted to lean against the wall. "No. But I feel like I should."

"Why?"

He tilted his head back up toward the ceiling again and tried to think of an answer before deciding on honesty. "Because I'm scared. This..." He paused to order his thoughts, knowing Keith would give him the time unless he looked like he was stalling again. "I've never felt like this about someone. I think before when I was with people I treated relationships like a distraction, like something to do when I wasn't working or studying or preparing for the mission or whatever else I was doing. But Lance isn't like that. It's more like everything else is a distraction from him. I want to be with him all the time. It doesn't matter what we're doing. Even if we're surrounded by other people, even if it's something horrifying like that banquet thing on Minast or something everyday like training or breakfast, I'm happier if he's there. I think I would do almost anything to make him smile, which is kind of terrifying, and when I make him laugh..." He paused again, because this was starting to sound ridiculously clichéd even to him. He was kind of surprised Keith wasn't eyeing his blade as a means of escape, but Keith was just giving him a small encouraging smile.

"Yeah, okay, I can understand how _wanting_ to be with Lance would be terrifying."

Shiro snorted out a surprised laugh. "Shut up. I'm serious."

"I know. That's why it's terrifying." His expression turned serious again as he idly passed his blade through his fingers. "So are you really worried that you're going to have morning after regrets? Has he done anything to make you think it won't work? That he's just trying to... I don't know, fix you or something the way he kind of does with the rest of us?"

"That's not fair. He doesn't actually try to fix people, Keith, he just... tries to take care of them." He shook his head and sat up a little straighter, suddenly driven by the need to defend the Blue Paladin even if he knew Keith was just trying to push his buttons. "He's not trying to fix _me_ , because he doesn't treat me like I'm broken. He listens if I want to talk, but he doesn't try to force me to relive things or expect me to be okay all the time. He doesn't put me on some sort of pedestal, either, not like he did at first. He's just there when I need him to be, and he leaves me alone when I need that. And he's not afraid to bitch at me or even yell at me if he thinks I'm being an idiot. He's..." He paused and ran a hand through his hair, eyes unfocusing as he searched for the right words. "No matter how much he bitches and complains, he puts other people first most of the time. He can come up with solutions I can't even see because I have so much tactical theory drilled into me that sometimes I think in straight lines instead of around curves. He's really good with people, especially now that he's not flirting with everyone at every opportunity. I just... need him." His line of thought suddenly came to a screeching halt. "Fuck, I'm in love with him, aren't I?"

Keith actually laughed at him, which wasn't fair, and someday he was so going to pay him back. "You think?"

"But Keith, what if it's just me? What if he doesn't-?"

"Just stop." Keith leaned closer and frowned at him. "Seriously, stop. Because as an unwilling witness to all of this, let me tell you, he's just in love with you."

"I don't know what to do!"

"I've seen the two of you together. The answer to that one's pretty obvious even to me."

Shiro shot him a look, but Keith just smiled that completely unaffected smile. "Just tell him, Shiro. Use your words."

Shiro took a deep breath and shoved himself to his feet. "Okay, okay. I get the point." He reached out a hand and pulled Keith up. 

Keith glanced at him, his expression shifting from amused to slightly exasperated. "Just go. Stop freaking yourself out. Be happy. Stop making the rest of us suffer. Win-win."

Shiro managed a laugh at that and slung a companionable arm around Keith's shoulders as they headed toward the locker room. "All right, you win. I'll talk to him."

"You might want to hurry. Pidge's patience is running pretty thin."

Shiro mimicked Keith's mock shudder and shoved him down the hallway. If that wasn't motivation, he didn't know what was.


End file.
